𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍. she can recall his face from what seems like centuries ago now. remembers how he once held his head high in the air , how the gold upon his clothes seemed to shine in the light of the sun in king’s landing. she had seen him in those streets once. in the pleasure houses & brothels which all seemed to know him by name , and she remembers now how he had seemed so un - defeatable. ( AND NOW , LOOK AT HIM , STANDING BEFORE HER WITH A BOTTLE OF WINE IN HIS HAND AND A SCOWL UPON HIS FACE ! ) never before , has he ever seemed so small in the eyes of a woman who once spent her evenings in the same room as him , though in the arms of another man. ————— still , the courtesan schools her expression into a soft smile , and lips painted red like the wine he sips curve upwards at the corner. ❛ 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚢𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚗. ❜ a brow arches , giving away only a trace of surprise upon her face as she leans down to press a swift kiss against his cheek. ❛ i was surprised , to hear you calling for me. ❜
surprised , to see this man standing before her , and to know that he is the same man who once read aloud pretty poetry to an entire room of women in a brothel. who had once been deemed the most charming of lannisters , should they only take into account his wit.
❛ and even more surprised , to hear you calling to me from pentos. ———— have you finally decided that king’s landing no longer suits you ? ❜ a hand comes to rest against his back , slender fingertips adjusting the collar of a shirt that has seen far better days than this. ❛ will you walk with me , a while ? tell me what prompted you to put such great care into your dress , in preparation for seeing me today ? ❜ @donestra
the last flurry of days had been a mixture of the nauseating. splinters and wood, sea air, briny vinegar wine, vomit, piss, repeat. lord varys’s coiling hiss in his ear, the sunlight, the death of his father and shae and the blood, the blood, the blood ! oh. how it all swilled together. what a naughty monster he has been, he thinks with a humourless sick little drunken giggle. oh, what a terrible awful vile irredeemable little creature he has become, how they have all seen it and bayed for the blood of a horrid monster until he had simply stopped fighting and thus become what it is they had always, always asked of him. - you are lost in thought again, milord? varys had asked him a few days ago at the end of an unanswered question. “ not lost. ” he had replied at the time. “ drowning. ” - wallowing, more like. had been the lord’s only response. ❛ yes , well . ❜ he says to inara, because he can hear that ‘ i was surprised to hear you wanted me ’ translates, for the likes of her, to ‘ i was inconvenienced by the existence of you, and your ugliness . ’ ❛ a creature like me exists to amuse & surprise. i am quite the spectacle. ❜ this wit, caustic now in his hands and pooling out of his now bearded mouth, makes his skin sizzle. makes his stomach turn. ask for a monster, and ye shalt receive. the night is long and full of etc, etc.
it is as soon as he realizes that he has not acknowledged her presence in return, not said the small yet polite “ LADY INARA , ” that he decides to press the wine bottle and his thumb into his mouth and gulp. it is rude, but then again, he is guilty of patricide, and as his sins went whilst he felt so entirely empty about the larger things, the smaller stood even less chance. her words do not register at first, her gentle fingers rearranging his ruffled collar. KING’S LANDING . GREAT CARE . WALK WITH ME . he can tell she is irritated with him, and he cannot blame her. he is a tragic joke of a creature, after all, and it is not her fault. it is, however, her job. he becomes defensive, suddenly, over his stupid wallowing. ❛ i left behind a great many things in king’s landing . ❜ he says, swaying a little but the name of that wretched place gouges a little sobriety out of him. he begins to walk. ❛ my sense of fun being chief among them. my father, alive, being another. oh, and this peculiar little ring i had - it was magnificent. ever so shiny. i would have brothel queens slip it onto my cock, you see. ❜ it is rough, but it is an attempt at a joke. not for her benefit, but for the sake of filling the silence up with something that isn’t examining his wounds. ( HE IS MORE WOUND THAN MAN AT THIS POINT ! ) ❛ forgive me, my lady. ❜ he says, suddenly aware of his untucked shirt and unkempt face. FORGIVE ME , BUT I KILLED MY FATHER AND IT HURT . I KILLED SHAE , AND IT HURT . I HURT ALL OVER , AND I CANNOT IMAGINE ANOTHER WAY TO FEEL . ❛ might i joke that such a hurry was i in, that i dressed myself sloppily and foolishly on my way to greet you . ❜ at least, he thinks, the lie - which they will both know is such, for she is too clever otherwise - is more laughable than the real reason. he could spin pretty fictions eternally, and it was more of a lark than caring about the pesky old truth.
